The Savior {one direction}

05.

Clarys pov.

She pressed the straw to her lip drinking the same plan black coffee that she would drink everyday, it was bitter and cold just how she liked it, she's been drinking it since she was 14 and never has she done it another way since.

She didn't belch at the taste like most of her acquaintances that would always hang around until they became friends. She wasn't one to make or even have a lot of friends. It was only if they could put up with her constant attitude. She also had my way of saying blunt and rude things out her mouth.

But She barley speaks to any one now a days. Clary stepped on to the train, she couldn't help the fact that tears wear coming down her face, with her hooded face she stood at the door with her head against the window. She was a silent cryer and that's why nobody would notice when she did it.

She looked at her feet, beaten up converses with tattered laces. She sniffed and wiped at her nose with her sleeve. She looked up and seen the boy across the doorway had his gave fixed on her his hair was wrapped in a beanie And his eyes were a warm brown. She ignored his stares and rested her head against the metal taking another sip of her coffee.

She looked back up at the boy curious to see if he was still looking. At that moment was when the train came to an abrupt stop causing herto jerk back and clench her coffee tighter.

He gasped but made no movement. And that's when the intercom went off

You are now at your destination.

The door opend and clary stepped off the train, flooding into a group of people. She was surrounded by people yet she felt so alone,.

She looked back, the boy was no longer in her sight, he was cute she thought.

She wiped her tears and pulled the hood down, walking out into the streets of New York.  She kept her head down watching people's feet move against the pavement. She turned down the familer ally way.

It was small with a dead end, there was an old fire escape on the left side. She went up the dusty old stairs until She fount herself on the 5th floor. She came face to face with an open and dirty window, it was being held open by an empty spray paint can. 

She pushed the can through catching the window and slipping her body through it. She had done this millions of times and had perfected the movement so that it was just one graceful movement.

And graceful was Clarys middle name, not literally but in the technical way. She wouldn't stumble when she walked. And she never stutters when she talks.

She keeps everything very abrupt. She looked at the room, it was a mess. The once neat stacked of glass paint  jars were scattered, some splattered on the wall.

One just happened to be red, a thick bloody red that took her memory back ages. Blood was always something she was used too.

She set her coffee down and went to the kitchen for a wet sponge. Clary sighed as she tried to wipe the paint off the wall.  She scrubed at the wall with all her might. Bending her elbows. She took off her jacket and placed it on the couch.

She grabbed the bleach from the bathroom cabinet and threw some at where the paint was. She continued to scrubed until it came off. When she looked down at her hands  they were tinted a redish color.

She day dreamed as she washed her hand. She day dreamed of what to draw next. It was very easy, clary had been drawling since she could walk. And her first thought was that boy on the train.

She had the perfect shade of brown to draw his eyes with. She sat down on the couch  crossed legged and coffee back in her hand. She heard a thud against her door.

Clary, stood and opend the door. As she opend it a boy with blonde hair came through falling on his face. "Hey, what's the big idea." She looked at him in a menacing way. What a dickhead. She thought to herself. He stood and looked at her with a smirk.

"What?" Her voice was on edge and Niall could tell. "Your that hot chick Carry that Zayn had told me about." She turned her face and Niall could see it. The long scare across her right check was a pale red against her skin. "What about me?"

"Just that he never really sees you anymore." And with that Niall backed away from the door and down the hallway as his phone buzzed in his pocket.

"My names Clary, not Carry." She shouted down the hall. He waved and stepped onto the elevator as someone came through. She recognized him instantly, the boy on the train. She shut the door quitely hoping he didn't see her.